Sex Games
by FallBubblegumFailure
Summary: Romano learns you should be careful of the games you play and also of the other players. YAOI: don't like, don't read. FrancexRomano [[RAPE WARNING!]]


**Mah BFFL came up with the idea for this story and she gave it to me to continue upon. I owe her for an amazing idea! Spasibo Lovi~ XD**

**Sex Games**

Bzzzrrrrt~!

_Look in your closet_

Romano blinked and stared at the text in confusion. _'How the hell could someone have gotten into my closet? I've been home all day!'_ Wondering if someone was trying to prank him, Romano started walking angrily towards his room, ready to kick the sorry ass of whoever thought they could fool him. Feliciano was out on some holiday with the Potato Bastard (*gag*) and the message came from an unknown number, so he couldn't tell who was trying to get him to look into the closet.

When he got to the doors of the small room that housed his clothes, he hesitated. What if it was some creepy pervert just waiting to drag him into the closet and rape him? Uh, thanks but no thanks. But what if it was a present? Was someone trying to surprise him? His birthday was still about a half a month away, so it would be kind of odd to get a present so soon… But then again, the Tomato Bastard always liked surprising Romano, so it didn't really cross his mind that there was something odd about getting a present. [*cough, conceited, cough* lol] But still…there was something very off about this whole ordeal…

Nonetheless, Romano grabbed hold of the handle and pulled the closet doors open just enough for him to see inside.

…Nothing. There was nothing in his closet besides his clothes and shoes, naturally disheveled and in messy piles. Romano's forehead scrunched up in confusion at the empty closet and made a move to close the doors when he felt a pair of hands on his shoulders—not rough but not exactly gentle either—pushing him into the closet and shutting the doors behind him. Whirling around inside the small space, Romano pushed and shoved violently against the doors, trying in vain to get them to open. Someone had locked him in.

"CRAZY STALKER BASTARD, LET ME OUT OF HERE!" Romano yelled, banging his fists against the door from the inside, not caring if the person on the other side was male or female.

A laugh sounded from the other side of the door as a familiar voice spoke up, "Only if you do me a favor, mon petit Lovino."

Romano immediately backed away from the closet door. "And why the hell would I want to do _you_ a favor, you perverted bastard?" the southern half of Italy sneered. France laughed as if this was the stupidest question Romano could ask.

"Because, mon cherie, you don't want Russia to catch wind of you wanting to become one with him." The Frenchman blackmailed shamelessly. Romano growled in anger. Everyone was afraid of Russia and his overbearing and sadistic desire to have all of the world's nations unite with him and become one so he could rule. This being said, the countries used Russia's ambitions to get what they wanted when other methods of persuasion didn't work. And obviously, other methods didn't really work on Romano. Unless it was Spain doing the persuading. But _that_ was another story entirely.

"And what is this 'favor' you want me to do?" Romano asked after a pause, hoping France might let him out if it sounded like he was beginning to agree.

"Not much, I just want to invite a fellow nation out for a friendly drink. I've been awful lonely lately, you see, and need someone to spend time with. I couldn't find anybody else so I came to look for you. Would you please, Lovino? I promise to play nice." The French said, his tone practically begging. Romano wanted to spit in France's face and tell him to find some other bored country to molest, but couldn't really since he was in the 'captive' position here.

"And if I say no?" Romano said, proposing the idea to let the French know he was having his doubts.

There was a rustling noise beyond the closet doors as France moved around to do something. Just what, Romano couldn't tell. Until he heard a soft banging noise, like metal against wood, and France opened the door. The affectionate nation stood by wearing a sad face, probably hoping to convince Romano with the puppy eyes. But the grumpy Italian didn't fall for it. He began to walk out, obviously thinking that this was France's last attempt, when the flashy country pounced on the Italian, covering his nose and mouth with a cloth. The cloth smelled strange, and just before Romano blacked out, he could tell that France was drugging him.

+…+

"Aah, there you are. Did you sleep well, mon cherie?" asked the French accent from close by Romano's head. Still groggy and a little incoherent, the Italian muttered something like "Rapist bastard" but it didn't exactly come out right. France laughed and his voice became farther away as he moved to a different part of the room. As Romano regained full consciousness, he could tell that he was on a bed, along with the fact that his hands were cuffed to the head board behind him and his ankles bound by a weird silk-like material. Soon thereafter, Romano found the material to be cheap pink ribbon. He started struggling against his restraints, aware that France had totally been lying about 'playing nice'.

He also found that he was most definitely _NOT_ wearing what he had been earlier. Instead of his casual white button down shirt and old worn out jeans, he was wearing a costume. A police costume. A police costume that just so happened to be way too skimpy for the Italian's liking.

"Like your new outfit? I got the shortest one I had, just for you." France purred as he walked over to the bedside again, setting up a video camera right next to the bed so it had a good view of the entire bed, including Romano.

"What the hell is that for?" Romano cried as the Frenchman set up the camera, aiming it directly at the poor Italian.

"Blackmail. In the future." France replied simply, finished fiddling with the technology.

"You can't use this as blackmail if you _forced_ me to do it." Romano informed him, completely confident that he could tell whoever saw the tape that he had been a victim of France's molestation. And he was.

But this is when the pedophile-of-a-nation grinned smugly at Romano, nearly scaring the daylights out of him. "It won't look like you were forced, though." France said as he walked out of the room and returned later with a small bundle of items Romano couldn't quite make out.

"And why is that?" Romano asked, scared for the answer.

"Because you'll enjoy it far too much for it to be seen as anything near 'forced'." France said before setting down the items on a nearby table and walking over to the camera, turning it on. Romano just stared at France with a horrified expression as the blonde nation set to work.

France stripped his shirt and climbed onto the bed with Romano, lifting the Italian's bound legs a bit then parting them at the knees so he could squeeze through that he would be positioned with easy access to one of Romano's vulnerable spots. Romano protested, of course, trying uselessly to free his cuffed wrists. The cold metal handcuffs clinked when Romano tried to move, and France obviously found this arousing, due to the fact that once Romano tried to move his hands, the French nation began grinding his crotch against the Italian's. Much against his will, Romano let out a short moan, feeling himself become hard. France smiled and ground harder, making Romano squeeze his eyes shut and bite his lip to keep himself from making any noise.

France didn't like that Romano was holding back so much, so he slipped a hand up the skimpy shirt he'd dressed him in and pinched the Italian's nipple. "Nng-F-Francis…!" Romano moaned, his hips bucking upward as he became more and more shamefully turned on. France smirked and pushed up Romano's shirt, revealing his bare chest. While his hand continued to work on Romano's nipple, France brought his lips down to the Italian's other, kissing it gently at first, then taking the pink nub between his teeth and tugging gently. "Ha-ah! Francis…p-please st-op!" Romano pleaded, knowing that France was actually right. No one would believe that Romano had been forced into sex with things going the way they were. This was seriously a disaster.

Then Romano's thoughts were torn away from the horror of the situation when France stopped teasing his nipples and came up to grip the Italian's chin and force him into a kiss. When the Frenchman slipped his tongue into Romano's mouth, the brunette couldn't help a low moan as he kissed France back, suddenly needy for more. Noticing this, France stopped his grinding to shove his hand down Romano's skimpy shorts and stroke the already hard member. Romano pulled his knees tight against France's sides, making the blonde yelp. France hadn't expected Romano to get so into it so early, but if anything it only fired up the 'affectionate' man even more. Wasting no time, France pulled Romano's shorts down to reveal the brunette's vitals. Leaving Romano's lips for his neck, France began pumping the Italian while leaving a love mark on his neck, in a _very_ visible place. The Frenchman had no shame.

Romano moaned loudly, yanking at his restraints again, but not with the urge to escape. No, he wanted his hands to be free to touch France, to get as much out of this as possible before it ruined his life. But the sadistic blonde wasn't showing any mercy as he nibbled on a sensitive part of Romano's neck while pumping him faster. And as France kept going, Romano felt the heat build up in the pit of his stomach and tried to warn France. "A-ah! Fr-Francis! I'm—" he began then broke off with a loud moan as he came all over France's hand and their stomachs. Smirking, France brought his soiled hand to his face and started licking it clean. Romano cringed.

"Told you you'd enjoy it~" France scoffed with a grin. Romano glared at him, but had to admit to himself, he was getting really turned on by the blonde. Then said blonde brought his hand up to Romano's mouth and brushed the brunette's lips with his fingertips. "Mind getting these wet for me?" France said in a low, seductive voice. Romano's face flushed a bright red and he hesitated; he and Spain always had lube on them. Noticing Romano's hesitance, France smirked and glanced over at the camera, indicating that the Italian start doing what he was told if he didn't want this little movie to be out where everyone could see. Blushing deeper, Romano opened his mouth a bit and France slid two fingers inside. Poking the inside of Romano's mouth, France motioned for him to open up wider. Embarrassed and ashamed, Romano did as he was told and France slipped in a third and a _fourth_ finger inside Romano's mouth. When they were well lubricated, Romano watched France in horror as the blonde sadist withdrew the fingers from the Italian's mouth and positioned them around his entrance.

"Y-you're not act-tualy going to use all f-four, are you?" the brunette asked in disbelief. France just smiled right back and slid two fingers into Romano's ass without warning. Romano gasped and struggled against the cuffs once again, his wrists starting to bruise. If France didn't release him soon, Romano was sure his wrists would be blistered and bleeding. But at the moment, all that mattered was that Romano was being stretched and searched. Soon enough, France added a third finger, and Romano lifted his hips, curious and anxious as to what a fourth finger would feel like. But he didn't get the chance to think about it long, because the fourth finger was added soon thereafter and Romano cried out as he felt himself stretch wider than he ever had before. France began prodding Romano's insides with his fingers again and this time it was only a matter of moments until the Italian threw back his head and cried out loudly, going blind with pleasure as France found his prostate.

Smirking, France withdrew his fingers and reached over to the table where his bundle of fun waited and grabbed a bottle of lube, making Romano's face flush a deep red. "What," The French said with a smirk, "did you honestly think I wouldn't have any lube at all?" he asked Romano, who didn't answer. France smirked again and undid the ribbon around Romano's ankles and took off the skimpy shorts entirely. Then he slicked himself up and positioned himself at Romano's entrance, holding the brunette's legs up by the thighs. Leaning down, France captured Romano's lips in a passionate kiss before slowly pushing into the Italian. Romano grunted and yanked on the cuffs again, this time feeling a sting and the wetness of blood on his wrists.

"Fucking sadist." The tomato loving Italian muttered, trying to control his labored breathing. He wasn't sure when he began panting, but he was sure as fuck now that his lungs hurt like hell. And on top of that, he was starting to get hard again. Grunting again, Romano squirmed and shifted his hips. "Move." He said to France, who raised an eyebrow, but did nothing more to question and began to move in and out of Romano at a slow pace. Agonizingly slow. Romano rattled his cuffs. He didn't yank on them like he'd been doing so recently, but he did move his wrists enough to make the metal chatter. Hearing this, France bucked his hips forward involuntarily, casting a glance over Romano that said 'I'm impressed'. Romano said nothing but shifted his hips again, growing impatient. And this time France obliged, speeding up his pace, but not too much. In addition to this, France aimed for the spot he'd found earlier that totally made Romano wig out. And when he hit it, Romano's back arched and his wrists started bleeding again from the weight of his body pulling down on the cuffs.

"Faster…" Romano grunted, swallowing his pride. "Please….go faster…" he said, needing France to do this; to make him see stars. And that's exactly what France did. The moment the aggressive Italian lost his pride, France sped up his pace to almost a frantic rate, slamming in and out of Romano without mercy. Over and over again France hit Romano's sweet spot and it wasn't long until the blonde haired nation released his seed inside of the brunette. Sighing once it was over, Romano almost seemed to collapse in on himself, only to be shaken back to life by France, who had a frightening gleam in his eye.

"Don't think it's over just yet, mon cherie. I've just begun~"

+…+

About a week or so later, after totally being taken by France, Romano decided to start attending World Conference meetings again. He'd missed out on the past week from nursing his love wounds back to health. His wrists had scars circulating them because of the cuffs, and his ass was sore for at least three days. Plus he had hickeys and bruises everywhere, and if he went out in public before at least a week had passed, everyone would've known something happened. Then people would start asking questions, and when people start asking questions, they start getting answers, whether they're right or wrong. So Southern Italy avoided the world [Literally] for the rest of the week, and only attended the meeting this Saturday because he figured he could cover his wrists with some hemp bracelets and most of the hickeys (in visible areas) had vanished so he felt comfortable enough to go out in public.

Bad. Idea.

The second he got to the meeting, he was glomped by France, and Spain and Prussia gave them odd stares (Well, Prussia gave them odd stares. Spain glared at France) After a few difficult moments, the Italian managed to detach France from his side and run off to sit next to his idiot brother and the Potato Bastard. Spain soon came to join them and Romano was grateful of the comfort his lover gave and leaned his head on the Spanish nation's shoulder—an act of outright affection that Romano never showed. Spain was startled, but didn't protest. Though he knew he should talk to Romano about it later.

After that one day, Romano realized the weight of his 'dirty little secret'. It could end his life as he knew it. Yeah, not good. So while Spain was out, Romano invited France over to make a deal with the blonde.

"NO one ever finds out about what we did—we destroy the tape—and… and we could make it happen again…" Romano finished uncomfortably, fidgeting under the shocked yet pleased gaze of the Frenchman. "But _only_ if we destroy that tape." Romano clarified, practically jabbing his finger in the Frenchie's face. France stood and saluted professionally to Romano.

"You have my word, the tape will be destroyed." Romano nodded and kicked France out before Spain got back home. And when his lover finally did get home, Romano told Spain that he felt exhausted and wanted to go to bed.

"Are you sure you're alright, Lovi?" Spain asked again, concerned. Romano nodded for the umpteenth time, fighting to keep his smile.

"I promise, I'm alright. Why don't you go hang out with your friends? I'll be here the whole time, I promise." Romano said, taking Spain's hand. Sighing, the Spaniard gave his lover a hug and left the house, saying he was off to hang out with Prussia. And true to his word, Romano went straight to bed, truly exhausted, but not for the reasons he made up for Spain. He felt exhausted because he felt like a dirty little man-whore. He couldn't stop thinking about what happened with France. How the blonde nation had taken him over the edge so many times. How his senses had nearly been killed in the process. But most of all, how _good_ it felt. He thought of the shivers running up his spine, his toes curling in pleasure, the feel of France's feathery soft blonde hair in his hands. He thought of how hard he'd gotten, just from France whispering to him in French.

Then Romano grunted, realizing he'd gotten hard just thinking about it. _'Damn that bastard…that's the third time this week…'_ Romano thought angrily as he put his hands down his pants, needing to get off. He stroked himself a bit before using his thumb to massage his tip. He groaned at the contact and cursed France again for doing this to him. Ducking his chin to his chest, Romano began to pump himself, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to think of anything _other_ than the sexy blonde. Romano moaned loudly. Obviously, it wasn't working.

At the front door, France had the video in his hand in perfect shape. He couldn't bring himself to destroy the recording. So he thought he'd give it to Romano. The Italian would either destroy it himself or keep it hidden in a safe place. The Frenchman hoped it would be the latter, of course. Not even caring to knock, France strolled casually into the home Spain and Romano were sharing (he had a key) and started searching for the brunette. Wandering around almost the entire estate, France couldn't find Romano anywhere. And there was really only one place he hadn't checked yet. Creeping up on the bedroom door, France carefully pressed an ear against the wood, trying to hear what was happening on the other side. And what he heard surprised him. What came drifting through the wood were Romano's soft, sweet moans. France blinked in shock and stepped back from the door, staring at it as if it started talking to him. Could Spain and Romano be together in there? The Frenchman certainly hadn't seen Spain's car in the lot, only Romano's. So the Spaniard was out of the picture. Which only left one thing.

France hurriedly turned out every light in the hall way and even the ones in the other rooms, just to be safe, before opening Romano's bedroom door and slipping quietly inside. Sure enough, the smaller man was masturbating, but under the covers sadly. No matter, France could still have his fun. Setting the tape and his cape off to the side as quietly as possible, France walked over to the bed from behind Romano and climbed into the bed quickly. Before Romano could react, France slid his hand down the Italian's pants too, easily taking control of the ministrations while whispering in Romano's ear, "Thinking about me, mon cherie?" In a seductive tone.

Romano froze. _'When did he get in here? I didn't hear him come in!'_ the Italian thought, startled and confused. But he wasn't given much time to think as France replaced Romano's hand with his own and began to pump the brunette. Romano moaned again, louder. It felt so much better when France was doing it to him, though he'd never admit it out loud. "Oui, I think you have~" France teased, taking Romano's ear lobe between his teeth. Romano groaned and soon thereafter, came into France's hand. France removed his hand and started licking off Romano's fluids, much like before. But this time, Romano turned around to face France, glaring.

"WHAT are you doing here?" he almost yelled at the Frenchman, who looked startled for an instant. But the surprise vanished and the pedophile's creepy grin came back.

"Just visiting mon petit cherie~" France cooed, smirking at Romano and pulling the brunette into a hug, burying his face in the Italian's neck and blowing softly on the skin, making goose bumps form. Romano shivered and glared.

"And stop calling me that!" he said, trying to pull away. But the older nation had a strong grip and wouldn't let go.

"Calling you what?" France pretended to act clueless.

This time, Romano shoved the blonde nation away, still glaring, though a slight blush spread across his cheeks at having to say France's little nickname for him out loud. "'My Darling'. I had Matthew translate it for me, though it was hard convincing him it was just out of curiosity."

France ignored the shove and dove for Romano again, wrapping his arms around the brunette's waist so he wouldn't get away. Romano sighed and gave up trying to get away, realizing the crazy, lusty bastard wasn't going to quit. "So did you destroy the tape then?" Romano asked, wanting to know if the blonde held up his end of the deal. France opened his mouth and was about to say that the tape was actually just over across the room, then stopped. He remembered that Romano said he would let it happen again if the tape was destroyed. France smirked.

"Oui, of course I did~" he said, snuggling closer to the young Italian. Then one of the arms that was around Romano's waist moved as France moved his hand to grope Romano's ass. Romano was immediately aware of France's hand on his ass and protested loudly.

"Hey! What are you doing?" He yelled, his face flushed a bright red. France smirked and nibbled on Romano's neck softly, being rewarded with a small gasp. At the same time, the Frenchman began sliding a hand up the Italian's shirt. Romano shivered at the sensations running through his body wherever France touched and bit his lip. He was getting turned on again. _Why_ was he getting turned on again? This was just France, not Spain. Yeah, he'd understand if it was Spain doing this to him, but this was France now. France was just a friend—no, an acquaintance. They had little to no relations with each other any other time so _why_ was he getting so hard? A little voice in the back of his head whispered the answer and Romano's face flushed a deeper red. He wanted to deny, but seeing as the way things were going, it was going to be a pain in the ass to convince himself and furthermore, to convince France.

And wrapped up in his own thoughts, Romano barely noticed that his shirt had been removed and that his bare chest was now exposed to the Frenchman. But he was brought back to reality when he felt pressure on his vital regions and his glazed eyes cleared a bit to find that France had straddled Romano's lap and that his hands were paying quite a deal of attention to the Italian's nipples. Romano moaned and brought a hand up to his mouth to bite on his knuckle, turning his head and refusing to look at the blonde who could sure as hell tell by now how turned on he was. And, bending over, France brought his mouth to the exposed skin of Romano's neck and left another love mark, among the others from their last time that had refused to vanish.

"Come on, make some noise," France murmured, trailing soft kisses up Romano's neck and along the Italian's jaw line as he moved his hips a bit, making their crotches grind together just a bit. Romano suddenly mewled with need and he was mortified with himself. But France seemed pleased. The blonde gently pulled Romano's hand from his mouth and turned the brunette's head toward him. The Frenchman placed light, teasing kisses all over Romano's face, purposefully avoiding his lips, and smirked when he felt Romano twitch beneath him. "You're getting very hard, mon cherie," France muttered, shifting his hips again. Romano grunted.

"St-stop calling me th-that…!" Romano gasped, fisting the bed sheets in his hands so he wouldn't touch France.

"But why? It makes your face all cute and red like those tomatoes you love so much~" France purred, placing another teasing kiss just at the corner of Romano's mouth, their lips brushing ever so slightly. But it was enough to make Romano lose control. The brunette moved his head and brought his lips up to meet France's in a heated and desperate kiss. France smirked into the kiss and shifted his hips again, but this time, he kept grinding, eliciting a soft moan from the smaller man. And soon enough, the two of them had to pull back for air. France smirked down at Romano, and Romano refused to meet France's eyes, his face still bright red. Maybe even more so now that he acted of his own accord. And this made France lean down and place his lips just centimeters from Romano's, not quite letting the brunette have another kiss. He had to ask.

"Lovino….do you want me?" the blonde nation asked, partially because he wanted to tease the young Italian, and partially because he was truly curious. I mean, Romano's body already betrayed him, but France wanted a conscious confession. Romano faltered.

"I-well-I…. uhm…." Romano stuttered, very well aware of the growing tightness of his pants and closeness of France's lips to his own. As well as his lusty behavior just moments before.

"Its okay mon cherie. You can tell me~" France said, grinding harder and pressing his lips to Romano's in another kiss. The Frenchman bit Romano's lip this time and plunged his tongue into the Italian's mouth when he gasped in surprise. When they resurfaced for air, it was Romano who spoke first, his voice breathless and feverish with desire.

"Yes…yes I want you…" he gasped, fists still clutching the sheets on the bed. France smirked in satisfaction. He moved his hands on top of Romano's and gently detangled them from the sheets. And mere moments later, Romano was positioned on top of France, who had flipped them around and switched their places. Romano blushed, having been made to straddle France's lap and place his hands on the blonde's chest. France smirked and brought a hand up to Romano's wayward curl that had sensory factors unlike that of the rest of the brunette's hair. Romano gasped at the contact and moaned lightly when France began rubbing the curl between his fingers. Speaking softly, France replied.

"I want you too, mon cherie…" and the emotions and sensations all melted together as their second time meant more than their last.

Sometime after that, more clothes came off. Romano couldn't be sure when, but he was absolutely sure no skin separated France and himself as the blonde held the Italian's hips, positioning the smaller man above his erection. "Are you ready?" France asked, keeping a firm hold on the brunette's waist. Romano quickly moved his hands from limp at his sides to braced against France's upright knees in an attempt to prepare himself. He nodded after that and the blonde Frenchman slowly eased Romano downwards, relishing in the sweet moans that fell from the Italian's mouth.

Reality melted away from Romano's consciousness again and the next time he was pulled back, he was on his hands and knees with France pounding into his ass at a timely pace, taking care to only hit the Italian's prostate at random intervals to keep the young brunette guessing. Romano fisted the sheets in his hands again, moaning loudly, calling out France's name…

Next he knew France's mouth was on his throbbing hard member, sucking forcefully and turning a dial in his one hand. All of a sudden a thousand hard and pounding tremors resonated deep inside his ass, vibrating against his prostate and making his back arch. Romano screamed.

The rest of the night continued like that, Romano's knowledge of what was happening fading in and out between awareness and deep, saturated pleasure. France eventually took him over the edge enough times that the small brunette finally slumped into unconsciousness, the Frenchman's member buried deep inside his ass as the two of them reached climax yet again. And in the morning, he awoke to the blonde's talker body cocooning his own protectively. Romano turned over and buried his face into the Frenchie's neck, sighing deeply and falling back asleep.

+…+

The next time he woke, France was gone, and instead, Spain sat on the edge of the bed, staring at something he held in his hands. His memory blurry from the night before, Romano sat up a bit shakily and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

" 'Morning Antonio…" Romano yawned and stretched, his body trembling with the effort. Soon enough, the arm he was propping himself up on gave out and he fell back into the cushions, confusion entering his thoughts. Looking down at himself, Romano saw dozens of bruises and bite marks from his love-making with France the night before. Romano blinked in shock and the fog clouding his mind suddenly vanished as images and sensations came rushing back to his memory, all causing a deep red blush to color his cheeks. But Romano also remembered that Spain was in the room and not answering his greetings. Pulling up the sheet to cover himself, Romano moved towards Spain, his hand outstretched. "Antonio…?" Romano started, his fingers just lightly brushing Spain's arm when the Spaniard flinched away from his touch. Romano pulled his hand back, waiting for Spain to answer.

"Mi amor…" Spain muttered at last, in his native tongue. "Mi uncio amor…" Spain then turned to look at Romano, the deepest, most heartbreaking sadness displayed plainly in the Spaniard's eyes. "Why?" Spain said, his voice cracking. Romano's eyes darted to the object in Spain's lap. It was the tape. Eyes shooting up to meet Spain's, Romano was at a loss for words. He opened and closed his mouth repetitively, wanting to say something, wanting to assure Spain so badly that it wasn't what it looked like, but the words wouldn't come. Spain turned away again, making Romano's heart shatter into a million pieces.

"I…think it would be best if you left for a while…" Spain said softly, after a long, tense, silent moment. Hesitating, Romano stared miserably at Spain's tense back.

After a moment more, Romano cleared his throat. "Si." He whispered, not trusting his voice enough to talk. Looking around, Romano tried to find his clothes. He scooted over to the edge of the bed, opposite the side Spain was sitting on and started picking up clothing from the floor there. Spain got up soon thereafter and left the room for Romano to change, slamming the door behind him. Romano cringed and stared at his disheveled clothes on the floor, finding it hard to breathe. Clenching his shirt tightly, Romano blinked rapidly, forcing back tears. He was _not_ going to cry. At the very least, not now. Not here...

Romano dressed himself as quickly as he could in his current state, throwing on jeans and a long-sleeve shirt. Unfortunately, in the middle of summer, it would be highly suspicious to wear a coat outdoors, so he had nothing to cover his neck. Like it mattered to him now. Spain already knew, what would it matter if anyone else knew? It's not like it could hurt him any more than it just had. Glaring back more tears that threatened to escape, Romano stumbled over to his closet and started packing a small duffel bag of clothes, leaving the rest of his clothing in there in the hopes he might be able to return.

Leaving the bedroom, Romano made his way through the familiar halls and rooms of Spain's house, feeling another stab of guilt and pain assault his chest for each one he passed. When he made it to the front room of the house, Spain was there, sitting on the couch, the tape on the coffee table in front of him. He didn't look up to Romano. It felt like the final nail in the coffin to Romano. Staring at Spain for a moment longer, Romano squeezed his eyes shut and turned his face away. "Addio…" he said, his voice cracking, before turning and leaving the home of his Spain, his lover, his heart.

+…+

After walking off into nowhere for at least three miles, Romano finally pulled out his cell phone and called his little brother. When Italy answered, Romano worked to make his voice as happy as possible. "Ciao Feliciano. What are you doing right now?" Romano asked.

Many long moments after his call with his brother, Romano was approached by a convertible black buggy. Germany was driving, Italy sitting shotgun. Without a word, Romano tossed his bag into the back seat and climbed into the car, shutting the door behind him. Germany glanced back at Romano with worry, surprised at the lack of name calling from the grumpy Italian. But Italy seemed to notice nothing as he turned around to face his brother and try to make conversation. Romano listened without really hearing anything, staring off past Italy's head as countryside and city streets passed by them. It seemed to take eons, but they arrived at Italy's house in just under five minutes. Romano almost didn't notice they were there until his little brother appeared at his side and started poking his cheek.

"Vee…~ Lovino, are you awake?" Italy asked, still poking. Romano blinked and nodded, reaching over to grab his duffel before exiting the car and walking into the house with his brother. Romano was courteously shown to the guest bedroom where he was 'welcome to stay for as long as he liked'. Romano nodded his thanks and gave a weak smile to Italy, who seemed to be getting worried. Romano waited until he was sure they had left before locking the door and stumbling blindly over to the bed, tears already clouding his vision. When he finally collapsed onto the mattress, Romano pulled a pillow his chest and clutched it tightly, broken sobs escaping his throat every so often. The sharp, throbbing pain in his chest, Romano could deal with. What he couldn't handle was the pressing thought that all of this was his fault—and it was. He should have made sure France was telling the truth about destroying the tape before diving into something too deep to swim out of…

Romano didn't attend a single World Conference meeting after that, always finding some excuse to stay home. He also barely ate, only accepting food if his brother stayed and watched him eat it, which happened more often than not because Italy couldn't stop worrying. He slept almost all the time, keeping the curtains in the room drawn to let the darkness drown out all other things. But even though he did sleep through the days, he couldn't get a wink at night. He would try, but he would always wake up from guilt ridden dreams and nightmares. Of course, he never told his brother about any of this. It would only make the poor guy worry more. Italy was the sensitive type, y'know.

This behavior continued for almost two months, Italy and Germany always discussing the heartbroken Italian in secret. Italy was greatly worried, and Germany had to admit that he was a bit concerned himself. He wasn't used to the Southern Italian being so depressed. Anger was what was expected from the brunette, and it was sometimes hard to imagine him feeling any other emotion. But all this coming from Romano was real, and it couldn't be ignored. So one morning, while Romano lay in his bed and try to get some sleep, he was forcefully removed from under the covers. Confused and disoriented, Romano stared up at his assailants. Italy and Germany stood there with a clean outfit for Romano. Germany threw the clothes in Romano's face.

"Get dressed." Was all the German said. Germany walked out of the room, Leaving Romano for Italy to deal with. Romano scrambled for an excuse, anything to get him out of having to go to the goddamn meeting, but his brother wasn't relenting. Eventually, Italy dragged out a dressed and refreshed Romano and shoved him into the back seat of the car. Italy hopped in shotgun next to Germany and by this point, Romano gave up protesting. He knew he'd have to face the hell one day, he just hoped he could prolong it for as long as possible. Apparently it wasn't possible to wait any longer.

Germany and Italy drove him to the meeting and Romano begrudgingly walked inside with them, being met with shocked stares and exclamations of surprise immediately. Everyone had gotten it into their heads that Romano had disappeared off the map, despite the nonsense babblings of Italy. And the shocked gazes followed him as he sat beside his brother and tried to ignore everyone else. Amazingly, he made it through the entire first half of the meeting without walking out or falling asleep. When the first half passed, America decided he wanted a break from the endless droning of the other countries and with major vote, the nations dispersed throughout the room, stretching and going to converse with each other.

Yawning widely, Romano folded his arms on the table in front of him and buried his face in them, hoping to nod off before the meeting started again. But he was kept from sleeping by an annoying little brother. Italy felt the need to catch up Romano on the past meetings _now_ of all times. Sighing exasperatedly, Romano nodded once and got up from his seat.

"I'm going to get a drink of water." He said simply to a confused Italy and walked over to the jug fountain and poured himself a cup. Finishing it quickly, Romano crushed the cup in his hand and dropped it into the trash can beside the fountain. And instead of going back to his brother, Romano backed up against the wall and leaned there, letting his eyes close and his tormenting conscious thoughts fade away from him. He sighed in his partial sleep, the blackness of his mind better than harsh reality. But his bliss didn't last long. He was awoken by a loud cough, not five feet away from where he stood. His eyes flying open, he blinked rapidly to clear the drowsiness from his eyes and get a good look at who woke him up.

It was France.

Giving him a glare filled with as much hatred as possible, Romano pushed himself up from the wall and started walking away, completely ignoring the Frenchman. Not giving up his attempts so easily, France moved quickly to catch up to Romano and stepped in front of the Italian's path. They were now close to the middle of the room and were attracting an audience. Romano looked around to find everyone's eyes on him again. Figures, the damn gossip mongers. Romano turned his attention back to France as the blonde began to speak.

"Mon cherie, I-"

"Don't call me that." Romano snapped as France barely got started. France hesitated for a bit before nodding.

"Lovino…Antonio told me that he found the video…and I told him that I drugged you and forced you into it." The blonde informed Romano. The Italian had to admit he was a bit surprised at the Frenchman's honesty, but he didn't let it show in his eyes.

"Doesn't really matter now, does it?" the brunette said bitterly, still glaring. France blinked and an honest sadness glazed over his eyes.

"Lovino, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for any of this to happen—it's all my fault. Please, I'm very sorry." France suddenly broke down and began apologizing repeatedly. Romano cut him off with a wave of his hand.

"Like I said, none of that really matters now." Romano said coldly, glaring daggers.

"Lovino—please-!"

"You lied to me!" Romano said, his voice suddenly rising. "You _used_ me! I trusted you and you _betrayed_ me!" France flinched, startled by Romano's loud voice and accusatory words. Romano didn't care. "How could you _possibly_ expect me to forgive you after what you did?" Romano demanded, eyes hard and burning with anger.

"…but you liked it…" France muttered quietly, just softly enough so that only Romano could hear.

Not a moment later, the loud sound of a slap resonated through the room and all eyes were now on France and Romano in the middle of the room. France was there, his eyes wide and his hand to his face where a dark red mark was starting to appear on his cheek.

"Ti odio." Romano stated in his own language, making Italy, Germany, Spain, and America all make sounds of surprise. And not wanting to stick around for the hell after the hell, Romano stormed out of the meeting room and started wandering blindly through the halls, tears threatening to cloud his vision. He didn't look back to see if anyone was following him—he didn't even want to know if anyone was following him—and kept walking, eventually getting lost in the extensive halls of the building on the side he'd never been to before. Unable to run away anymore, Romano sank to the floor in the corner of the room he'd wandered into, wrapping his arms around his knees and burying his face in them. His shoulders shook with silent sobs and his he clenched his fists so hard that his fingernails dug into his palms and drew blood.

Not twenty minutes after running off, Romano heard voices calling his name, distant and worried. He ignored them completely except for pushing farther into the corner, wishing he were invisible. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case. Just moments later, he heard the door creak open and someone step into the room. Drawing his arms closer around himself, Romano tried to ignore the uninvited visitor. But that wasn't happening, at least not in Prussia's book.

"Hey, are you alright?" the German asked, walking over and kneeling down next to Romano, a hand on the Italian's arm. Romano was surprised by several things in that one moment. One, Prussia had come after him; Two, the loud, conceited German was being anything but; and Three, Prussia sounded _concerned_. Displaying his shock, Romano jumped at the German's touch and stared at the white haired man with startled eyes. Prussia cracked a smile. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." He said gently, surprising Romano even more. From what he knew of the…robust…nation—which was a lot because of Spain being friends with him—this man was _not_ gentle _whatsoever_.

"W-why are you here?" Romano silently cursed himself for stuttering. Prussia chuckled lightly.

"Everyone's looking for you, that's why. Now let's go before people start getting even more worried." He said, squeezing Romano's arm a bit before standing, pulling the small Italian with him. Romano was still confused and a tiny bit scared. Was Prussia planning something? When the German tried to pull him out of the room, Romano refused to budge.

"N-no, I mean…why are _you_ here?" Romano asked, making it clear he wasn't expecting Prussia to be the one to find him. The albino seemed to think about it for a moment before shrugging, his crooked smile lighting up his face again.

"I'm just lucky, I guess." Said Prussia, something in his voice making Romano even more reluctant to follow the red eyed man. And on top of that, Romano was tired of being scared.

"Okay, cut the crap. Why are you acting like this? Usually by now you'd be shouting about how 'awesome' you are or something of the sort." Romano said, trying to pull his arm from the taller man's grasp (Damn all these tall hot men). Prussia seemed startled by Romano's little outburst, but eventually rubbed the back of his neck with one hand and chuckled softly.

"Heh heh…I didn't expect you to be so perceptive…" he muttered before straightening up and smirking his usual shit eating grin. _This _was a Prussia Romano was familiar with. "To be honest, I didn't come find you to take you back to the others…" the albino started, making Romano raise an eyebrow in confusion. Prussia had let go of Romano's arm by then and turned slightly to close the door, automatically making the Italian suspicious. "To be honest…I wanted to talk to you." Prussia continued, moving towards the middle of the room to sit down in one of the chairs that were there, surrounding a small conference table. Romano remained standing, still a little suspicious of Prussia. But he did walk over to where the red eyed man was sitting and leaned against the table.

"What did you wanna talk about?" Romano asked, staring at Prussia expectantly. Prussia leaned back in the chair and continued smirking at Romano.

"Is it really true that you got it on with Francis twice?" Prussia said bluntly, not even bothering to sweeten the words. Romano blinked and his face flushed red with embarrassment. Of course people knew about that by now, what did he expect? For Spain and France to be completely silent about it all and not go to rant or vent to somebody and spill everything? Yeah right, like that'd ever happen. Fucking loudmouths.

"Wh-why do you ask?" Romano stuttered, not denying it but not admitting to it either. Prussia shrugged. The albino leaned forward and took Romano's curl between his fingers with an evil and teasing smirk.

"I'm jealous." He said, also bluntly. Romano was shocked. _'Okay…what's going on? Why is Prussia acting like this, why is he saying these things? What's happening? It seems all of Antonio's friends are….no. Don't think about Antonio. It won't help anything.'_ The Italian thought frantically, utter shock and anxiety running through his veins along with the unwanted presence of adrenaline. Prussia was toying with his curl.

"J-jealous? Of wh-who?" Romano stuttered, shivering as Prussia rubbed his curl between his fingers.

"Francis." Prussia answered, bringing his other hand to Romano's waist and pulling the small brunette toward himself. "And Antonio. I don't think its fair they get to have you all to themselves." Prussia had now pulled Romano onto his lap and was leaning his head against the brunette's back as his hands roamed all over. Romano jumped and yelped when Prussia's hands passed over his pants.

"Wait, stop. Please, don't touch ther-" Romano started protesting but stopped when Prussia nibbled on his neck, gasping.

"It's okay, I'll be gentle." Prussia said, starting to unbutton Romano's pants. Romano began to panic, trying to pull Prussia's hands away from his lap, not succeeding against the albino's strength.

"Wait! Please, stop! You don't want to do this!" Romano struggled harder against Prussia's grip, all in vain. He wasn't letting go. Eventually Prussia succeeded in undoing Romano's pants and let the Italian stand up, but kept an arm around his waist as he slipped his other hand down to his own pants and started undoing them quickly. Of course, Romano fought to get away and almost broke the German's grip a couple of times. But Prussia was finished before Romano could get away.

The albino shifted his grip on Romano a bit to pull down the Italian's pants just past his ass, leaving the rest up, and sitting the brunette back onto his lap and onto his erection…dry. Romano cried out loudly in pain, tears coming to his eyes. "Please stop…!" the Italian choked out, gripping the sides of the chair tightly, his knuckles turning white. Prussia merely groaned and leaned his head against Romano's back again.

"So tight…" the albino muttered, holding on tight to Romano's waist. Not even waiting for the Italian to get used to it, Prussia began to move Romano, lifting up the small man and dropping him back down hard enough that their skin slapped together. Tears started rolling down Romano's cheeks as the searing pain tormented him.

"No more…please no more!" Romano cried, choking on his own tears. But the Italian's pleas seemed to do nothing but make the German speed up. Romano yelled in pain and Prussia groaned again, standing up and forcing Romano to lean across the table and clutch the other end as if for dear life. Romano was crying freely now, pained sobs escaping his throat and his body trembling beneath Prussia's, not just in pain but in fear of the taller man. If people thought _Russia_ was bad! Prussia sped up his pace then, coming close to climax. Romano began begging for mercy.

"Stop…please stop…! Please, I'll do whatever you want! Just stop!" Romano pleaded, still crying. Prussia ignored him, and as he came closer, he buried himself deep inside Romano's ass and released his seed, groaning. Romano opened his mouth in a silent scream, letting his head fall against the surface of the table. Prussia pulled out then and cleaned himself up, leaving Romano to himself.

"Next time, try not to complain too much." Prussia said cruelly, turning and leaving the room, closing the door behind him. Romano let himself fall off of the table and slide to the floor, laying there and crying in pain. He wished Spain were here to hold him and tell him it would get better. Hell, he wished it hadn't even happened in the first place. He wished his life wasn't as crappy as it was, he wished Spain could forgive him, he even wished he could take back what he said to France. But you can't rewrite the past, and so Romano just lay there, not bothering to cover himself in the case someone found him, and cried until he passed out.

+…+

Romano woke up to find himself covered with familiar blankets, staring at a familiar room, and being greeted by a very familiar voice. He sat up and stared in shock at Spain, who was sitting not two feet away from him. _'He's so close…'_ Romano thought, aching to reach out and hold the Spaniard.

"Lovino?" said Spain, looking like he was expecting an answer. Romano blinked in confusion. In his shock over the situation, the Italian hadn't heard what Spain said to him in the first place. Spain smiled, realizing this. "Are you okay? Nothing hurts, does it?" The Spaniard asked gently, bringing Romano fully back to reality. This wasn't some dream he was having, this was real. He was really here with Spain in his bed, and it was _real_.

Romano realized his emotions must just be walking across his face, and quickly recovered with his usual scowl. "I'm fine." He said shortly, crossing his arms and looking away. As thrilled as he was to see Spain, Romano couldn't let himself get too carried away. He had screwed up royally [and literally] and been kicked out, last he remembered. Now was not the time to get all affectionate.

But that thought left him just as his breath did when Spain's hand came up to his face and turned Romano's towards his own. Leaning over, Spain brought his lips to the Italian's, whose brown eyes were wide with shock and starting to tear up. Letting go of his fears, Romano wrapped his arms around Spain's neck and pulled him close, closing his eyes and deepening the kiss. Spain leaned them down on the bed so that they both lay there, locked in their embrace. The tears in Romano's eyes rolled down his face and Spain pulled back, wiping them away with gentle hands and a soft smile. "What's wrong, Lovi?" The Spaniard asked.

Romano leaned his cheek into Spain's palm and relished in his touch. It had been too long. "I'm sorry…for what I did. I…I didn't mean for it to happen." Romano said in response to Spain's concern. Spain brushed his thumb across Romano's soft cheek, still smiling.

"It's okay. It wasn't your fault. France does that to everyone, I don't know why I was even surprised he got to you in the first place." Spain said. Romano blinked in surprise and stared at Spain.

"B-but…I mean, I-" Romano tried to protest, not understanding how Spain could forgive him so easily. Hell, Spain didn't even put any blame on him. All Spain did was stare at him with those entrancing green eyes and make Romano feel like putty.

"It's okay, I promise. Lovino, I love you. Don't you ever forget that." The green eyed man reassured the Italian, pulling him back into a hug. Romano locked his arms tight around Spain, determined not to let go, and pulled closer to his lover. As he did so, Romano felt something against his leg. Blushing, he pulled back a bit to look Spain in the eyes. Spain was blushing too, and refused to make eye contact, knowing Romano would want some sort of explanation. "Well…heh heh… you just looked so delicate, I couldn't help it~" Spain said, grinning and scratching the back of his head.

Romano whacked his arm and glared, still blushing. "Stupid horny bastard…" He muttered before pulling Spain into another kiss. Spain chuckled, kissing Romano back and moving so that he was positioned above the small Italian. Romano blushed a deeper shade of red and Spain smirked.

"Don't worry. I'll be gentle." Spain said, his voice low and seductive—which didn't help Romano's blush at all. Spain smiled. "Hey…I love you." He said

"…I love you too." Romano replied, closing his eyes at his lover's familiar touch.

_**{[(-The End-)]}**_

**OMG I FINISHED IT! Wow that took FOREVER! I'm sorry if it didn't end like some of you would have liked it to, but I was nearing my deadline, so…yeah. XD**

**O/O I just noticed something…this is only my second published lemon… XDD I feel awesome!**

**If anyone is having issues with how I used Prussia, I'm very deeply sorry. I'm going to work on that, but I needed to throw in a rape scene and I also needed to keep it STRICTLY Bad Touch Trio plus Romano. And for all you Spamano lovers out there, I'm sorry I didn't put much detail into their little moment together. At first it was just supposed to be FrancexRomano all the way. But obviously it didn't turn out that way. **

**Who knows, I might write alternate endings in the future. *shrug***

**ANYWHO! Reviews and constructive criticism are WANTED! Tell me how to improve because I know I messed up a lot. [i.e. Prussia] *is shot***

**So…yeah. Thanks a ton to everyone who **_**reviews**_** and favorites my stories. You all make my LIFE! No joke! **

**Asta la Pasta!**


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